


Old Wounds

by Kasplode



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 03:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11911965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasplode/pseuds/Kasplode
Summary: A long overdue apology is made.





	Old Wounds

A crisp knock sounded at the door to the house section of the Mystery Shack. Stan was out back filling in for Soos, who was attending his son’s ballet recital, so it was up to Ford to answer the door. Ford paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not it was worth answering. Another knock sounded, breaking his train of thought.

With a quiet sigh to himself, Ford stood, wincing slightly at the audible crack and accompanying twinge of pain from his bad knee. His body certainly wasn't what it used to be. He was almost glad for it, in a way. A few decades ago, he was lucky if he survived to the next day, let alone the year. Now here he was, old and grey and living peacefully. Call him nostalgic, but it meant a lot to him.

Ford shuffled over to the door, smiling lightly to himself. He was incredibly happy with his life at that moment. He had stability, he had his friends, his family, his _brother_. Not to mention, his scientific prowess had finally been acknowledged! All it had taken was getting another PhD and publishing a few papers on his theories about space-time and wormholes, among other topics that had taken his interest.

The man unlocked the door and pulled it open, ready to tell the visitor that if they were there for a tour, they would have to go to the other entrance. The smile on his lips withered and fell as he found himself face to face with one Bill Cipher. Now, it wasn't as if it was much of a surprise to see him. Bill had been hanging around Gravity Falls for years, having shown up just two years after his failed apocalypse. Over that time, Bill had been on what appeared to be his ‘best behaviour’.

Ford didn't buy it.

Surprisingly, after Bill’s initial reappearance, it was Dipper who suggested that maybe they shouldn't shoot him in the face with Ford’s quantum destabiliser. Dipper reasoned that if Bill really did have the ability to come back to life, they wouldn't want him to be hostile when he showed up again. Instead, they would keep an eye on him and restrict his freedom, lest he be planning anything.

After many years- about a decade if Ford recalled correctly- Mabel, to no one’s surprise, decided that Bill had really earned his second chance and slowly began befriending him. She was wary of course, but she truly wanted to, “Give the guy a chance,” as she put it. Ford had been upset and worried, but Mabel was respectful and understanding. However, it was clear that she, too was hesitant interacting with Bill, even after so much time.

To this day, Ford simply could not understand how his great niece could stand Bill. He was an absolute pest, if you asked him.

Eventually, Dipper, and much later, Stan, warmed up to Bill to the point that if they were in the same room, they wouldn't glare at Bill. Most of the time. Ford, however, remained distant, cold, and often blatantly aggressive towards the being that had done so much to him. It was almost surprising that Bill had the sense of self preservation to stay away from his old ‘partner’, but he was glad for the distance. Ford didn't have the patience or the strength to deal with the pest any more than was necessary. At this point, Ford barely saw him more than a handful of times a year, and always from a distance.

Before Ford, Bill stood straight, a determined yet cautious look on his face. He was fidgeting slightly. Ford bristled.

“What do you want, Cipher,” the man spat, vitriol dripping from his words.

Bill seemed to stiffen a bit, and the caution in his eyes gave way to a feeling that Ford acknowledged vindictively. Fear.

Bill took a breath, stopping his fidgeting in favour of clasping his hands together tightly, as if in prayer. If it weren’t for Ford’s distress, he would have noticed the irony, perhaps snorted with derision at the sight. Despite that, the tension in the air was palpable.

The words that then came from Bill’s mouth came as a surprise to say the least.

“I'm sorry, Stanford.”

Ford stared in shocked silence, caught completely off guard. Just what was the blasted demon thinking? What had prompted him to apologise? What was he plotting this time? Questions flooded his mind in the stead of the myriad of emotions he’d surely feel otherwise.

“So, what? Do you honestly expect me to forgive you? After all you've done?” Fords tone was strained and accusatory.

Bill shook his head. “No, nothing like that. You have no reason to forgive me. In fact, I'd be pretty peeved if ya did, you know?” Bill smiled bitterly, continuing, “I know nothing can ever change or fix all I’ve done, but this? This is bare minimum. This should've been done years ago. Because I really am sorry, Si- Stanford. You deserved none of what I did to you, and I wish that I could go back and undo it all, but I can't, so,” Bill’s voice broke slightly, eyes betraying self loathing and pain, “all I can do is tell you this, because the least I can do is admit that I fucked up _bad_ , and apologise.”

Bill took a moment to catch his breath and compose himself once more.

“So, that's all I have to say, I guess. If you don't have any response to that steaming pile of horse-shit of an apology, I’ll take my leave.”

He stood there somewhat awkwardly, waiting for a response or dismissal from Ford. The scientist only stared at him silently, body frozen in place as his mind rushed to register all of what he'd just heard. Under the weight of the stare, Bill resumed his fidgeting, becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

Finally, Ford sighed and opened his mouth slowly to respond.

“I.. acknowledge the apology. I do not forgive you. It's- I don't believe I could ever forgive you for what you put me and my loved ones through. It isn't something anyone can ever just.. ‘get over’.” Ford considered saying more, but he simply couldn't think of anything else to say. He wasn't one to repeat himself once he got a message across.

The ageing man drew himself to his full height, despite the protests of aching joints. Looking Bill straight in the eye, he said, “Goodbye, Cipher.”

Bill’s expression didn't change. Instead, he nodded and took a step back from the door.

“Goodbye, Stanford.”

With that, he turned around and walked away.

Bill retreated from the Shack, Ford staring at his slowly shrinking form, watching him leave. A moment passed, and Ford closed the door. The man made his way back to his seat and sunk down on the worn cushions. He'd meant every word he said, and was incredibly relieved that Bill had finally left. It would take him some time to sort through the muted buzzing of his thoughts and feelings. For now, he'd focus on the way his chest felt less tight than usual, and the insignificant weight no longer burdening his shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drafts for a really long time. During said time, my understanding of Bill as a character and my personal headcanons for him have changed quite a lot, but I decided to stick with what I'd already written.  
> Gotta get that validation, amirite?
> 
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
